


i was born in a big grey cloud, screaming out a love song

by cm (mumblemutter)



Series: down there in the dark [3]
Category: Thor (Comics), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Genderplay, Incest, Other, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:41:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor and Loki and lessons unlearned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was born in a big grey cloud, screaming out a love song

It begins as an argument over something or another - Loki's wanton cruelty, perhaps, or a careless word of Thor's. It leads to the inevitable battle, and by the end of it Thor is bleeding from the mouth and Loki has a gash across his head, and the surrounding forest is turned into a wasteland of scorched trees and frozen ground.

"Enough," Thor says.

"It is never enough with you," Loki snarls, circling around Thor in a seemingly casual manner. Thor steps back to keep him in his line of sight, because it is Loki, and it is always unwise to turn your back on Loki.

"I do not wish to fight."

"Don't you? It seems to me you spend your time chasing one glorious battle after another, in some endless quest to prove your manhood."

"Loki -"

"Except of course when you are slobbering over me as if I were a dog in heat, or worse, your woman." This said with such venom, Thor knows he is talking about Sif.

"Except you have been, more than once," Thor replies then, and regrets it almost immediately after.

Loki's face turns black, the darkest cloud that Thor could conjure, and the air cools between them, in this desolate land that they have made of their fury. Thor readies Mjolnir as lightning crackles under his fingers, ready for yet another round of wasted time.

Nothing happens.

Instead Loki smiles. Softly, sweetly, and Thor steps to the right yet again. But Loki merely looks up at the dark and roiling sky and says, "It is the truth, is it not?"

"I did not mean it."

"Whether you meant it or not is irrelevant. I have borne children. If that does not make me a woman, what does?" He lowers his gaze to stare at Thor, his eyes large and beguiling. The smallest sparks of lighting crawl under Thor's skin, but Loki merely continues, "We should rest here for the night. I do not foresee either of us making it through this treacherous forest in our states."

Thor wipes yet more blood from his mouth. "That might not be wise. If we start now we will make it back by sunrise."

Loki opens his palms and his staff disappears, as does his battle wear, leaving behind simple cloth and leather. "I do not wish to fight either, brother. Come, let us seek shelter. Do not worry."

It is Loki: of course Thor worries. And yet when Loki turns and starts his way up a rocky path leading into the forest, Thor follows.

They fall into step, Loki murmuring at one point about how he had noticed a cave opening up high as they passed earlier. "Let us fly," Thor says, pointing Mjolnir in the direction of the cave.

"Can you?"

"Of course," Thor replies, for it is as easy as breathing. And yet his bones feel weary, his tread heavy where they used to be light.

"We're near," Loki says. "I can walk."

-

"There is no shame in being a woman," Thor tells Loki as they reach the end of the path, the mouth of the cave yawning dark and wide in front of them. Or being mine, he wants to add, but he does not. "The All-Mother -"

"Stop your yammering," Loki snaps. "I do not care for your opinion on what kind of shame I should or shouldn't carry. I did not take offense because your words are meaningless to me, as the words of all fools are."

Thor relaxes somewhat as they venture into the cave, using the light of Mjolnir to guide their way inwards. Loki spiteful, Loki malevolent and angry and contemptuous: Thor is familiar with. Loki silent, or accommodating, or obsequious, is cause for worry.

The cave will suffice for the night: the ceiling is high and smooth, and there is a pool of clear water at the far end. Loki crouches at the side and dips his hand into the pool, pronouncing it safe a moment later.

Thor leans his back against a wall, slides down it until he hits the ground. He watches as Loki cleans himself, wincing as he clears the dried blood from his face and neck. They are gods, they will heal, but only another god can do such damage. Thor's mouth still tastes of blood, but he cannot find the energy to stand, to join Loki at the pool.

"You can sleep," Loki says. "I promise no harm will befall you."

Thor shakes his head to clear it, opens his eyes wide as they insist on slipping shut.

He should not sleep.

He cannot.

Loki turns his head, and smirks, and Thor's eyes close once again.

-

The pain is unbearable. Sharp, stabbing his belly as if a hundred dwarves were using his intestines as an anvil for their weapons. "What have you done to me," Thor chokes out as he curls in upon himself.

Loki's face swims into focus, his fingers trailing across Thor's hair. Thor tries to shove him away, but his strength is gone and his hands falls uselessly to the ground instead, as Loki laughs lightly. "The pain is only temporary," he says. "It will pass."

Thor wants to smash his face in. He wants to call the full force of thunder down on Loki, turn him to dust, nothing more but a wet and slick stain upon the grounds. Instead he moans, open-mouthed, as Loki cradles his head in his lap and hums a soft, lilting lullaby to him.

Thor rolls his eyes back into his head, and promptly passes out.

-

When he awakes, the pain has abated somewhat, and Loki is gone. Thor sits up and looks around wildly, but he is back soon enough, his step light and sure-footed. Thor narrows his gaze and asks yet again, "What have you done to me?" But he already can feel a dawning horror creep upon him, a sense of wrongness, of strange in his very bones. He holds his arms out in front of him and they are not his. They are smaller, more delicate, the wrists thin and fragile. Not even a warrior's hands. "What have you done to me," Thor asks, the third time.

Loki kneels down next to him, his smile a soft, indulgent thing. His fingers graze Thor's cheek, and he says, "Exactly what you think I have done."

-

Loki says it is not permanent.

Loki laughs, and crosses his arms, as Thor rages at him, threatens his death and dismemberment.

Loki says, if Thor kills him he will remain in this form forever.

Loki says, it is hardly so dire as that.

Is it?

Thor picks Mjolnir up. It feels the same, at least. He falls onto his hands and knees and uses its light to peer at his reflection in the pool. The face is familiar, but only just. Far softer, and young. Giant eyes that blink back at him in confusion.

There is wetness between his knees. Thor sits back on his heels and reaches under his - skirt: Loki has seen fit to redress him as well. "Is this merely an illusion?" It does not feel like an illusion.

"As much as all reality is mere illusion."

"Speak sensibly."

Loki rolls his eyes and peers at his fingernails. "If only I could make you less stupid as well. We might be capable of a conversation as equals."

Thor removes his hand from beneath his skirt. "I am bleeding," he says, staring at the red, shining near black in the dim light.

"It will pass. As will this, as I have said repeatedly."

"You will forgive me if I do not trust you. I had your word."

"I promised no harm would befall you, and no harm has. You are merely a woman for a while." Loki pushes himself off the wall, slinks over to Thor and crouches down. He takes Thor's wrist and dips his hand into the water, washes the blood off. "Get in. Clean yourself."

"No," Thor says. "Change me back."

"You said yourself there is no shame in being a woman. This should not bother you. I have lived as one for years."

"By your own doing," Thor says. "This is hardly a choice."

"You still speak as if I chose." He takes Thor by the elbow and Thor stumbles to his feet, trembles upon them. "You have lived through worse, surely, sister dear." His hand slides to Thor's leg, bare save for boots that end slightly below the knee.

"I bled poison once," Thor says, his voice softening. "In a cave not unlike this, I believe."

Loki lifts his eyes upwards as he unties the laces on Thor's boots, pulls each one off without removing his gaze from Thor's face. "You are prettier than I would have imagined," he says, and he sounds faintly surprised.

"It is your spell," Thor says.

Loki sniffs, affronted. "I merely set it in motion. I have no control over your features. Not that you are a great beauty, but in this dim light, more than adequate."

"But surely I am not so -" Small, he wants to say. Delicate. But he does not.

The water is cold as he wades in, and only rises to his thighs. He splashes around for a bit, washing at the blood between his legs but not daring to venture higher, where what is missing becomes more acutely obvious as he adjusts to this new form. Finally he sits, sinks down into the water and Loki laughs, a low, mirthful little laugh. "You can touch yourself, Thor," he says. "Would you like me to look away?"

"No," Thor says, flushing slightly.

"Or I could help you."

"No," Thor repeats, more vehemently. The water is even colder against the sore, bleeding part of him, but it is soothing. He squirms and settles down on the floor of the pool, ventures his fingers under his now wet, heavy skirt, hesitating but briefly.

He is Thor, son of Freya, the goddess of all earth itself. He is Thor, god of thunder and lightning, of the sky itself. He is more than this body, more than flesh and blood and bone.

"How does it feel?"

"Different," Thor says.

"Diplomatic. You could be king yet."

"It is not diplomacy," Thor says, and rises to his feet. The water that streams down his legs is warm from his body heat. He climbs out of the pool and pulls the skirt off, follows with his vest and undershirt. "I am wet," he informs Loki. He cups his breasts with his hands - they fill his palms, but barely.

When he glances up Loki is watching him with wide, unnerved eyes. "You can have my furs," he says, his voice tight.

Thor wraps the furs around himself, curls up in the same corner of the cave. Loki seems to be unable to stop gazing at him with the same unblinking stare. Thor tucks a fur between his legs for warmth. It still aches slightly, and he winces. "When will this go away," he asks.

Loki finally is galvanized into action. He stands and moves towards Thor, only answers when he is seated next to him. "A day, perhaps less. We should stay here." The gaze he slides towards Thor is sly. He is recovering his wits then. It is Loki: Thor only expects as much. "Unless you would rather return to Asgard in this form."

Thor shakes his head. "We will stay. I am tired and my sleep was interrupted."

"Sleep?" Loki says. "Since when have you and I ever managed much sleep in places like this?"

"We have managed some sleep on occasion," Thor replies, keeping his tone wry. He does not want to play this game with Loki.

"Ah, so it is fine for you to take me as if I were a bitch in heat but not the reverse? Are you a maiden, wet between the legs but unwilling to part them for a man, content to tease and deny?"

Thor manages a laugh. "I am hardly a maiden, Loki. And I have not had a cunt long enough for such things as teasing. I am merely tired. Perhaps later." He turns deliberately away from Loki and lies down on his side, shifts until he is comfortable enough. He can feel Loki next to him, the coolness of his body penetrating even through the furs. It is comforting, and he drifts off to the sound of Loki shifting, sighing irritably.

-

He awakes to a body pressed against his back and an arm around his waist. He stiffens: Loki does not seek out touch unless he has an underlying motive, and Thor has long since realized it is best to sit back and wait until he reveals himself.

"You are awake," Loki says, against the shell of Thor's ear.

Thor turns his head so he can look at him, and Loki raises himself up onto an elbow, smiles silkily at him.

"Do you want me," Thor asks.

"What kind of a question is that?"

"An honest one."

"This form pleases me."

Thor's fur has slipped off his shoulder, uncovering her breasts. "Deserving of an honest answer," he says, refusing to pull the fur up.

"Do you want me?"

"Always," Thor replies without hesitation.

"Then my desires do not matter." He hooks his hand under Thor's knee and drags him towards him, drawing Thor's leg against his waist. Thor gasps as Loki's cock presses against his cunt, hard and insistent, and he reaches for his trousers, but he smacks his fingers away. "Impatient," he says, follows it with a sharp, "Wench."

Thor stretches his hands out above his head instead, adjusting to the feel of this new body, allowing the muscles to flex. It is distracting enough that he does not notice Loki moving until his head is between his thighs, his tongue wet against him. Thor says, "Wait," but is ignored, and a moment later he does not want to wait, as Loki opens him up and slides his tongue inside, his hand coming up to press against him.

So this is what it is like, then.

Thor squirms, and Loki laughs again, a low rumble that sends warmth up his spine. "Oh," Thor says, and he is wet, he can feel the slick against his thighs, feel every movement of Loki's tongue, cool as only Loki is, inside his cunt. Loki raises his head up, too soon, leaving behind an ache that isn't quelled when he kisses Thor, his tongue sliding into his mouth. "Now you know what you taste like," Loki says, almost dreamily. "Do you want me to take you?"

Thor nods his head jerkily, lifts his hips almost unconsciously towards Loki.

"Say it. Say you want Loki, son of Laufey, trickster, villain, bringer of endless dark, to take you, to fuck you, to fill you up with my treacherous seed."

"You have filled me with your seed before," Thor says faintly, almost dizzy with desire. Loki speaks nonsense: it is confusing.

"Not like this," Loki replies, and his smile is a wicked thing. "You will see." Mjolnir flickers briefly, flares bright and then dims, casting shadows upon Loki's face.

He does not hesitate, does not wait for Thor to be ready. Instead he unsheathes his cock and as Thor rises onto his elbows, slams himself in. Thor claws his fingers into Loki's shoulders, but it is merely pain, and he has endured far worse.

There is triumph on Loki's face as he smoothes Thor's hair back, winds strands of it around his hand before he draws out and then pushes in again. Thor looks to where their bodies meet, his bronzed legs against the darkness of Loki's clothing, marvels briefly. He is so small. It does not seem right, that he would have the form of a mere slip of a girl. Barely a woman, even. But enough of one that he can arch up into Loki, tighten his thighs in an attempt to ride him. Loki takes Thor's knees instead, bends his legs up against his sides so he can bear down upon him, and he is not wrong: it is different, and it has never been quite like this.

"Do you see," Loki says urgently, and Thor turns his head so he does not have to see his face, presses his cheek against the soft fur. The pleasure is a slow, building sort of thing, and it is easy enough to slip into a haze, to only hear Loki's words when he begins to forget himself, when he starts to croon into Thor's ear. They are not the nicest of words, but it is Loki after all.

After a while even that disappears, and Thor is left with nothing but his own blood rushing through his ears and the cooling touch of Loki's fingers on his neck, and Loki's cock, filling him up. "Loki," Thor says, and that is when Loki stops, rolling his hips and rocking slowly against him. His thumb presses against him yet again, the rest of his hand splayed on Thor's belly, and Thor whines slightly, a futile attempt to get Loki to start moving.

Loki only smiles though, a bright flash of white teeth, and says, "Beg me. I want you to beg me, oh mighty Thor. Thunderer, hero, _god_. Brother. Surely there is no shame in admitting need."

"I," Thor begins. He has said many things in the heat of battle, many more while submerged in pleasure, but he has never begged. Loki cups Thor's breast in his palm before he lowers his head, closing his mouth over the pink of his nipple. Thor moans at the spark that runs through his entire body, and every part of him can feel Loki inside him, refusing to move.

It is infuriating, maddening.

And yet he still has his strength. He flexes his muscles, bucks his hips upwards, and this time it is Loki that moans, eyes glittering and hard as he tightens his lips. The desire has receded, the need less pressing even with Loki's thumb rubbing lazy circles against him. Thor puts his hand to Loki's jaw. "No."

Loki's entire body stiffens, and he finishes with a sudden, keening gasp, slipping his arms under Thor's shoulders to pull him close. Thor drapes his arms loosely around Loki's neck as Loki spills into him, as promised, and there is only the barest of space between their lips - it is Thor who breaches the distance in the end, surging into Loki for a kiss borne only of need.

Loki breaks away finally, pushing Thor back down onto the furs. He is still fully clothed, Thor notices belatedly. "If I left you here, like this," Loki says, "what would Odin say? Have your belly go fat and round with my seed, to push out a squalling child on this dirty ground." He slides two fingers inside Thor, and Thor jerks but allows it, allows him to lay a wet trail up his trembling belly and to his mouth. It tastes like blood and Loki and _Thor_.

Loki puts his fingers to his own mouth afterwards, sucks on them thoughtfully. Thor stretches and tries to clear his head, but all he can think to do is remind Loki, "You said I would return before then."

"Indeed I did. No matter - the time isn't right for a child, and most especially not ours. I will not tolerate mixing my bloodline with yours in any case. I would like my children to be somewhat intelligent."

"Then I hope to spare you the indignity." Thor spreads his legs apart in invitation. "But if there is still time."

Loki's face shutters abruptly, as if he has just recalled something forgotten. "I am not yours," he says. "No matter what form I choose to wear or whether I allow you to put your cock into me. I have never been and never will be."

"Aye, Loki," Thor says, and takes Loki's fingers, guides them between his legs. "But I am yours."


End file.
